


The Journeys of Crazy Woman and Dawning Blade

by Serriya (Keolah)



Category: LE GUIN Ursula K. - Works
Genre: Alternate Universe, Constructed Language, Gen, No Plot, Nonsense, Sdrawkcab Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1995-01-01
Updated: 1995-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rettah wanders around and writes down poetry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journeys of Crazy Woman and Dawning Blade

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second incarnation of Rettah, written during my first year of high school. I was apparently obsessed with constructed languages and the novel "Always Coming Home", and for some reason I set this all in a world based on chemistry. The continent of Anda is a bit of DNA, and Nietor is a protein. The cities are carbon ("seetons"), hydrogen ("hetons"), and so forth. Just go with it. It doesn't make any sense to me anymore either.

I have lived in Sotysland my entire life, never going farther west than Renrut, farther south than Werdna, farther east than Jenile, or farther north than Encive. I spent much of my time in my hometown Nnud, or in Isserb or Enoob. I knew the names of every townhold, and of many of the major clans. I had many friends, but also I was thought to be insane. Nuts. Bonkers. However you want to say it. Even my name is Crazy. 

I am, by profession, a warrior-mage, as all of the Eiram clan are. However, in practice--since there are presently no wars going on (which is an unusual occurance around here)--I am a writer. I tell stories. I also create stories. I go places around Sotysland and do things, writing about them. My stories give rich detail so as to prove their authenticity to any Sotyslander who may be reading them, or to set the image firmly in the mind of any foreigner. 

I know all the paths of Sotysland. I have walked down every road so often that I know if such-and-such farmer repainted this sign on the outskirts of Welmhill, or that the matriarch of the Dervay clan in Renrut had ordered another barn built along one of the roads to Isserb. One who has been here all her life does not fail to notice these things: they are part of life. If the residents of Werdna decided to take down that big evergreen a third of the way to Welmhill, I would know the next time I go down that road. One cannot fail to notice the absence of something which has been there before even her clan was formed, even before Nnud was founded. 

Thus as I enter my thirteenth year, I have decided to leave Sotysland to seek my second name. I wish to walk roads I have never walked before. I wish to know the feeling to be a stranger in a land. I have stayed here too long. It will remain until I come back. It will doubtless still be here long after I am dead, and the children I have not yet borne are grown old with age. The great tree on the road to Werdna will still be there, gaining a ring each year. The signs will be repainted each year, and barns will be built and taken down as is needed. 

It isn't going anywhere. It is people who must go. We come, we go, and the land shows little sign of our individual passing. We are remembered, for a while, then most of us are forgotten. Dust in the wind. We build cities, but they crumble to dust. We build barns, but they rot out in a few decades. We paint signs, but the paint is worn away all too soon. We are born, we have children, we die. Clans come and go. Paths fade and become overgrown with brush, while new ones are tread elsewhere. 

But, no matter which road we take, which path we tread, we always seem to get where we are going. What else can we do? We are only human, after all. No one can expect anything else of us. We are free people, going where we wish. Of course, all of us are vulnerable to assassins, which is why we always leave a place in peace, and not make the residents angry. It ensures that people just don't go out and kill people for no good reason. If two clans are fueding, killing is justified. If one person came and chopped down a tree onto the clanhold, the clan would probably retaliate. 

We are not peaceful people, here in Sotysland. But we know our place. We know which paths not to tread. We know what stones not to touch. We know our land, and we love our land, even as we love everything. Though this may sound contradictory, it really is not. One can say that this is a forest here, or that that is a townhold there. Another could say that this is a great cluster of trees, and that that is a group of huge buildings within two stone rings. A third could say that this is a place where deer and bears and wolves live, and that that is a place where human people live. And they would all be right. 

I walk this day on the western road to Sawalla, the last town I will go to before I leave Sotysland. There I stayed the night with my friend Biritti. I briefly spied Dnomra of the Thinjano clan, but he disappeared somewhere near the courtyard. That guy is so annoying. 

* * *

Before I continue my story, I will tell about the customs and rituals and holidays of my townhold and my land, in case there are any outsiders reading this who do not know our ways. The four main holidays we have in Nnud, which are celebrated in most of Sotysland, are the Water Dance at the spring equinox, the Sun Dance at the summer solstice, the Harvest Dance at the autumn equinox, and the Fire Dance at the winter solstice. I think the reason we have the Fire Dance in winter is that, because there's usually either a foot or two of snow fallen or everything is just soaked, that the fires don't spread beyond where they are supposed to be. We don't exactly worship fire, but some of us come close. 

At the first full moon after the Harvest Dance, we hold the Feast Dance. This one is restricted to Nnud, as are the others I will talk about. At each full moon, we hold a Moon Dance at night so long as the full moon can be seen. If it is cloudy and raining, there will be no Moon Dance. After the Fire Dance, we hold a Hearth Ceremony, at about the next full moon. This is a very large holiday in Nnud, and all the clans here are involved.

The next day, I set out with Biritti, Dnomra (against my will), and Melnac Werdna. We found a path to the west, and were soon in the foothills of the mountains. We crossed several streams, and located a pass--Mouse Pass, I believe--and crossed through it. After a few more days travelling, we came to the heton of Surgalon. 

Mythland is a place of endless winds, which probably explains the names of most of their townholds. Zephyr, Storm, Tornado, Hurricane, Gale, Sirrus, Cyclone, Boreal, Cumulus, Nimbus. The rest are Surgalon, Marute, Drang, Norombi, and Tuluse. I think these Mythlanders are obsessed with wind. I heard a story once that said they could speak with the wind. Well, as far as I'm concerned, that's just a bunch of hot air. 

We walked down the roadrings and entered the seeton of Sirrus. After staying the night with a healer clan there, we walked up the east road leading north to Hurricane. There we stayed a night with a farmer clan. Then we walked northwest to Storm and stayed the night with a harper clan. We walked up the east road going north to Zephyr and stayed the night with a herder clan. Then we spent all of the next day walking up the eastern road which goes north and south, from Mythland to Nedaland. We stayed the night in Mailu, with the Garaspar, a clan of priests. Then we walked up the west road leading north to Needew. 

Never will I forget that first day in Needew. As we stepped into town, we nearly got hit with some arrows. When we reached the square, Biritti nearly got her hand chopped off with a battle-axe. As we looked for a friendly clan, Ylanwad fell on me. 

I don't think I'll ever find out why she was jumping out of a second storey balcony, acting like Bird Woman or something. I am definitely glad that that sword of hers was sheathed at the time. Then Dnomra started laughing and made a reference to our sexual orientation. As soon as I could get the hysterical Neerual off of me (I think she didn't hear Dnomra), I introduced myself. Needless to say, she had never heard of Nnud, not to mention the Eiram clan. 

I really didn't learn much about Ylanwad that first day, but we had several months to get to know each other, because we became friends almost instantly. Biritti and Melnac pleasantly stayed, and Dnomra slightly less pleasantly. Maybe an assassination would be in order. 

Now immediately after I got Dawning Blade off my back, I said, "I am Rettah Eiram of Nnud." She said, "I just took my second name: Ylan Inwa Wad." 

I stumbled over that a few times, then said, "Ylanwad." 

Now Ylanwad's firstname was Ylan, "Sunrise." When she became older and learned the sword, she took the name Ylan Inwa Wad, "Dawning Blade Alone." I, for one, found that name hard to pronounce, so I said Ylanwad, which it had remained since. At first she objected, since the entire part about the sword was omitted, and she was now First Dawn instead of Dawning Blade, but I argued that, with the NWA part of the name, enough of the sword remained to still make her Dawning Blade. That is still how I translate the name. 

"Okay, Crazy Woman," she laughed. Then Dnomra made another comment. She said, "That boy will die." 

Then, after several months, the Neerual elders were going to take Ylanwad and the other children her age up north to the Great Northern Mountains. The others and I split up. I went east into Naugland. Then I went south on the center road into Sotysland. I visited Nnud and Enoob and Isserb and Renrut and Werdna. Melnac had returned by a different way. 

I learned from some great swordmasters and mages, such as Drawi; Mit Ssog and his wife; Thacki Nillod, Trab Sille, Pemek, Suglew, Niltac, and later Annedge Senoj. We had a fort by the great river Ettemallew, on the border between Sotysland and Naugland. Then Ylanwad came to learn there as well. 

I went to Needew in Nedaland to visit my friend Ylanwad, Dawning Blade. For the purposes of understanding, I will record both the actual words of the songs and their general translation. As I was quick to learn, the people of Needew have a great many songs. Here is a traditional warrior song from the Neerual clan, said to explain how the clan began (Though it doesn't do that at all).

 _[Atributed to Nneka Neerual]_

**A os inwa**  
A kua inwa  
U kesna luu minwa  
A kua inwa os jati.  
A kua jati  
U kua jati  
Ur tu kua jati  
Ur tu kua jati.

  
A cwis nirril  
A pris nirril  
Pris ú shanang  
Tis ú mezang  
Os á juketant  
nax a-Neerual  
Os á juketant  
nax a-Neerual.

 **She and the Sword**  
She had a sword  
it shone like silver  
She had a sword  & magic.  
She had magic  
It had magic  
They both had magic  
They both had magic.

  
She slew the nirril  
She ate the nirril  
Ate its flesh  
Drank its blood  
And her name  
was Neerual  
And her name  
was Neerual.

I think that song was rather wierd, if you ask me. A better name for it would be "A pris nirril"--She Ate the Nirril. Is that why these Neeruals are so wierd? And what exactly was it that she ate? I asked the Neeruals about the nirrils, and they told me that they looked like little fuzzy bears with pink wings, but had fangs and drank the blood of animals. Ylanwad suggested that drinking the blood of such a creature would give you great strength and magic. However, the last sighting of a true nirril--not one of those dolls--occurred many centuries ago. They might as well be legendary for all I have--or rather haven't--seen them. 

Here follows some other songs from the Neerual clan. The Neeruals and sometimes the Luzen sing it at the Sword Dance around the summer solstice, one of the major holidays in Needew. During this event, which I have arrived in time to see, begins two or three days before the summer solstice, since that date can't be counted as presicely as some would like. The Neerual warriors who had swords would stick them in the ground around a large flat stone before the festival, forming three interlocking spirals. In and out of these spirals, the Neeruals and often many others would dance and chant and sing songs like this next one, usually more or less in unison. The songs typical of the Sword Dance would usually be in three parts, sung sometimes separately and sometimes simultaneously, depending much on the whims of the Neeruals dancing. Which part you sung depended upon which spiral you were in at the time. Dawning Blade persuaded me to join in the dancing and singing.

 _[Roanin Tinwa]_

**Inwa tinwaya**  
Tinwing inwa tinwaya  
Tinwing inwa  
Tinwing inwa tinwaya  
Tinwing inwa

  
Rahim remi  
Rahim remi  
Rahim ur ish gala  
Rahim ur oska  
Rahim ur vitta  
Rahim, remsi, rahim  
Tinwaya inwa  
Tinwaya, remsi  
Tinwaya inwa  
Tin-tin-tinawa

 **The Sword Song**  
Singing the sword song  
Singing the sword  
Singing the sword song  
Singing the sword

  
Strike the drums  
Strike the drums  
Strike them until evening  
Strike them well  
Strike them quick  
Strike, drummer, strike  
Sing the sword  
Sing, drummer  
Sing the sword  
Joy-joy-laughter

 _[Traditional]_  
 **Unnath ala**  
Bannith ala  
Unnath ala  
Check, check, check

  
Bunu ala  
Bunu ala  
Dash, dash, dash  
Tin tin ala  
Dash check ala  
Bu, bu, bu

 **The Spiral Stone**  
Center stone  
Spiral stone  
Step, step, step

  
Round the stone  
Round the stone  
Dance, dance, dance  
Happy stone  
Dance step stone  
Round, round, round

I became really hyper during that Spiral Stone song, and got so much into it that Dawning Blade had to drag me out of the spiral at dusk. Then, all night, I was saying the song in my sleep, or so Dawning Blade informed me in the morning. 

When the seven days of the Sword Dance were over (during which no one could eat any meatloaf) I asked Dawning Blade to come with me on my journey. Since she was glad to, we set off for Otak by way of Selrahc. 

In Otak and on the ship to Bangsqueak, we heard a few sailors' and fishermen's songs. Here follows some of the more interesting ones. They also sang obscene ones about mermaids and women.

 _[Sea chanty]_

**Hon, lethe, hon**  
Hon wessi lethe  
Zan há noëthe  
Oll har gel prim zethe

  
Hon, lethe, hon  
Lahaya wessi lethe  
Hon ta há noëthe

 **Come, Fish, Come**  
Come little fish  
Into my net  
So we may eat tonight

  
Come, fish, come  
Please little fish  
Come to my net

 _[Tseswin Rolias]_  
 **Shense Hoshi**  
Ibya ha hosh  
Woto yints  
Ta jaya har  
quat har brava

  
Ibya ha hosh-wes  
Shense wessi hosh-wes  
Woto yints har brava  
Cath ob hosh-la  
Shense wessi hosh-la  
Ta ibya har  
quat har noshla  
Lahaya, hoshi  
Há zuri thax há zuli  
Wo jaying har  
quat har brava

 **Fair Winds**  
Blow me a wind  
Across the sea  
To take us  
where we go

  
Blow me a breeze  
A nice little breeze  
Across the sea we go  
Bring up a gale  
a nice little gale  
to blow us  
where we sail  
Thank you, winds  
My words are my gift  
For taking us  
where we go

 _[Shakom Rolias]_  
 **Dutrack Quiia**  
Luba hetu  
Luba hetu  
Gob os luba  
Gob os luba

  
Quiia dutrack  
Hon ta hetrim  
Brava ta yints  
Os har fet lahaya  
Wo ú tinwaya

 **Wave Watch**  
Flow water  
Flow water  
Ebb and flow  
Ebb and flow

  
Watch the tide  
Come to shore  
Go to sea  
And say thank you  
For its song.

When I heard that, I thought these ship people were being a little disrespectful refering to the sea as a "hetu," which usually refers to a puddle or other small body of water. Then I learned that "hetu" was just sailor slang for the sea, since it also means water. The sailors informed me that the last thing they would do was be disrespectful to the sea. The captain, Shakom Rolias, is Tseswin's cousin, their mothers being sisters. I must be related to them since my father is a Rolias. 

When we arrived in the port of Bangsqueak in Lorpeni, I learned that there would be a play this afternoon in the townhold's courtyard. It was an open performance, as outdoor ones usually are, so anyone could come who wished. The actors, who were of the Tetarmah clan and residents of Retfa, were putting this play on for their own pleasure, as well as that of the audience. Here follows a description of the play.

 _[Danshaam Tetarmah of Retfa]_

**Biting Brothers**

There is a bench near the center stone of Bangsqueak, and a table with three chairs to my left almost to the audience. A door stands on the far side, where there is an aisle through the audience. A women walks through this door and sits on the bench. She carries a basket filled with fruit. She looks at the sky and says: 

-Quat há e-Danshaam?  
Quat kume e broven?  
Zatch myzéh xuve  
Zan yalla?  
Quel sa e ozhim  
Du quat e kume broven?  
Quat há e-Danshaam?  
Quat kume e broven?  
-Where's my brother Danshaam?  
Where has he gone?  
Onto the sky's rim  
Into the sun?  
When will he come back  
From where he has gone?  
Where's my brother Danshaam?  
Where has he gone? o 

An older woman, wearing a scarf over her head, enters the stage through the door. She carries a basket of bread loaves. She walks over to the table and places them there. She says: 

\- Quo vono ju  
Uzu wad?  
Lin ha lemba  
Há fantu, brava.  
Jú rethorb sa ozhim  
Si ju sa wad attin.  
Mant zan kwizzin  
Brava, brava.  
-Why are you sitting  
Out here alone?  
Give me the fruit  
My child, go on.  
Your brother will come back  
If you will just wait.  
Now into the kitchen  
Go on, go on. 

The younger woman gives the other the fruit and exits through the door. Two men carrying a third on a litter enter through another aisle in the audience, to my right. The older woman looks at them in shock. She cries: 

-Há e-Kazzinth os há e-Kosso,  
Ni kume feram  
Há juhapa Danshaam  
Há fana Danshaam  
Há Danshaam  
-My Kazzinth and my Kosso,  
What has befallen  
My poor Danshaam,  
My young Danshaam  
My Danshaam,  
what's wrong? 

The first man, Kazzinth I assume, reaches the bench and they place Danshaam on it. Kazzinth says: 

-While out in the forest  
On mountainsides steep  
We found a great wolf pack  
With stomachs too deep  
And our brothers rushed us  
And snapped at our limbs  
And injured poor Danshaam  
Took bites out of him.  
The other man, Kosso, says:  
-oWe rushed back to home,  
And bound Danshaam's wounds  
He still lives, I think  
I hope that he does. 

The older woman kneels by Danshaam and begins crying: 

-O, why did this happen  
What did we do  
To make our kin angry  
And do this to you? 

The younger woman reaches the door and gasps, dropping the basket of herbs she is carrying. She drops to her knees and hides her face in her hands. She cries: 

\- Há e-Danshaam,  
há rethorb  
O Danshaam,  
my brother  
What's happened to you?  
I feel your pain  
Of brother's betrayal!  
My brother is dying,  
because of my brother  
And if Danshaam dies,  
They are no kin of mine! 

Kazzinth walks over to the younger woman and speaks quietly to her: 

-Be calm, my cousin  
Your brother yet lives  
And I will send Kosso  
For a healer for him.  
Please, my cousin  
Rest and be well.  
Your brother will live  
Our brother be well. o 

He gestures to Kosso, who runs off down to my left through the audience. The younger woman shouts: 

-But we had yet argued  
And he not forgiven  
Nor had I he!  
Yet now I forgive  
A thousand times over  
For all that he'd done  
That he just be well!o 

The older woman stands, and places a piece of fruit in Danshaam's hand. Danshaam moans and opens his eyes. The younger woman slowly stands. Danshaam takes a bite out of the fruit. The mother says: 

-My son, he is well!  
He eats of my fruit!  
May all ventures end  
In life yet renewed!o  
Danshaam wipes his face, sitting up. He looks to his mother and says:  
-Ha kenth ju, há thorem  
Os lahaya  
-I greet thee, my mother  
And thank thee for life  
That gave me this apple,  
And ended my strife.  
I thank all my brothers  
That I claim as kin:  
Not wolves now, my mother  
But trees fruits grow in!o

After the play, I had the actors repeat a few of the lines and spell out the names. Due to the language in the play, I gathered that all the characters were of the same clan. 

 Then the actors gave out the food they had used for props. Then one of the actors--Danshaam Tetarmah, who happened to play Danshaam--gave me a song about acting. 

  
Azhennol Khan  
Nat khan  
Ni odroth zan ur  
Ni jaya ur jan  
Hwi ikbar dohike  
Ni nax khan  
Ta xanth zatch azhennol  
Ni nax khan du editch  
U odroth os popax  
Kol palaya echlid  
Nat khan  
Ha zurrut jukaka  
Ni itanya har itawa  
Jan hár ó nushi  
Stage Fire  
There is a fire  
That burns in us  
That takes us through  
The hardest days  
That is the fire  
To be on stage  
That is the fire of applause  
It burns and crackles  
as the audience claps  
There is a fire  
I call desire  
Which lets us soar  
With our own wings

My own name, however, translates as "Insane, crazy," or "Madwoman." Why my parents named me that I never hope to know, though it definitely fits. I will translate it as Crazy Woman. (You really don't want to know how my parents' names translate--believe me!) 

My grandmother, Yelrish Eiram of Nnud, has an odd name as far as I am concerned. It means Free Strudel. Now I think her parents must have been crazier than my name inplies me, or she worked in a bakery when she was young. 

When I first stepped onto foriegn shores--namely, Bangsqueak--I started considering taking a second name. Then it hit me, when I saw a map where the estons were labeled pink. I called myself Fingessa, Pink Sulphur. Ylanwad, for one, didn't take me seriously in the least, so I decided to think seriously about my second name, which is hard to do when you're Crazy. 

However, even if she didn't take me seriously, she kept calling me that! On her calendar she had marked down somewhere, "Meet Pink Sulphur for lunch." I really had better do something about that.


End file.
